Page 17 of Dirty, Bruised Martini
I think about you when I find you back in your studio.
Jane already counseled you for hours and headed to bed. As exhausted as both of us are. You were pretending to work but I’m not stupid. Well I am right now. I can’t get my shit together. I know you were hiding from me. Can’t say as I blame you. I pretty much hate me too. You didn’t invite me in so I stayed in the doorway. The exact opposite of what I want. What I normally do. But obviously what I normally do isn’t working so I did what I think you would do. If you were in my place.
I finally told you I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I’d never said the words until I heard him apologize to you. I guess they didn’t seem like enough. How the fuck could they be enough after what I let happen to you?
Your swollen eyes shined when you stare at me as I begged you to please forgive yourself. Which is even more important than you forgiving me. I reminded you how proud I am that you were so damn brave and resilient. That not very many women—if any—could have gone through the hell you went through and still be this strong. Still be fighting him and me and the doubts I created within you. Don’t let my mistakes be what holds you back.
I failed.
Two words I hate more than any others in the entire fucking universe. Especially when they involve you.
I failed you, and I’m sorry.
I think about him when I find you brooding in your office.
Your body pulsed with rage as you scanned your phone. A terrifying mania filled your expression. Making me shudder when your eyes flicked to me and then immediately back to the screen. My heart weeping when I know your anguish is because of me. In the past, no matter how stressed you were, how much work you had waiting for you, you always seemed happy to see me when I’d surprise you. Abandoning your papers and laptop to stalk to me. Ravishing me so quickly and thoroughly, we wouldn’t make it to the bedroom. You’d take me right on your desk.
Now, I’m a burden. To you and myself. I’m almost skeletal from his abuse, but my body has never felt heavier. Weighed down with the shame I carry in my mind and my soul.
Today you brushed past me. Kissing my forehead almost as an afterthought. Cursing even more than normal if that’s possible as you raced down the hallway, two of your men flanking you, struggling to keep up.
Just when I think maybe we’ve found our way back to each other, I realize we’re more lost than ever.
I think about my motherfucking bastard captain when I found you hiding in the pantry.
With Jane.
With my gun.
That thank fucking god you weren’t turning the weapon on yourself. Or asking me to.
You were protecting her from the massacre I caused when I discovered one of my most trusted men fucking betrayed me. That’s how that god damn motherfucking fucker stole you. Tony gave you to him. He fucking gave you to fucking him!
Don’t worry though, rosy girl. You never have to worry about him or any of his traitor bastard buddies again. I’ve taken care of all of them. I would’ve loved a slow, glorious, agonizing torture again for those motherfuckers but I didn’t get that luxury this time. Their bodies blasted beyond recognition is a close second though.
I hope you believed me when I told you that you were never in danger despite the battle. The men assigned to guard you are paid well. Very fucking well. But I know they hold the same beliefs as me with regard to women. Honor among us bastards to shield you from threats or die trying. Just like Trent.
I’m sorry I destroyed the house. Almost too damn much blood and bullet holes to repair. I’ll fix it rosy girl. Or build you a new place. Anything you want my brave, brave girl. I know I shouldn’t be smiling after I just gunned down those three assholes. But after all the bullshit you survived you are just too damn tough to let anyone hurt you again. You even protected your therapist. I’m so proud of you. I’m so fucking ecstatic you’re proud of yourself.
But I think we’ve fucked up Jane.
I think about him when the doctor inspects the surgery site for the last time.
Hopefully, the only time he’ll have to. He’s promised me that when I wake up the hideous tattoo will be gone permanently. I shook my head when he asked me if I wanted to see the lines he drew on my back. To confirm where he’ll make the incisions and graft the skin, forever removing the monster’s brand.
I don’t ever want to look at anything that reminds me of him. I just want it gone. I just want the anesthesiologist to come and put me out. I just want you to stop pacing as I write this. Both of us expect so much. I hope the operation is enough to give us what I pray it will.
I think of you when you wouldn’t open your eyes.
God damn, rosy girl, you about fucking killed me today when you struggled so much to come out of the anesthesia. The nurse said it’s relatively common, that some patients take longer than normal to overcome the sedative effects. Especially a petite woman like you. But I don’t give a damn about any of them or any of that. I just wanted you alive and awake and okay.
And happy that it’s gone. You were. The first words out of your mouth when you finally blinked open your gorgeous blue eyes. Tears rolling down your too pale cheeks when I confirmed everything went exactly the way it was supposed to. The doctor said you’re perfect. Fuck yes you are. Even though I should kill him since he’s seen my girl naked. But I’m relieved enough you’re doing well to let him live.
And satisfied that he implanted the tracking device without revealing my demand to you. Probably all kinds of wrong but I don’t give a damn. I’ve got to keep you safe. A tracker on you isn’t enough. Your phone and ring were ripped away too easily. But a microscopic chip inside you, that no one knows about but me, ensures I always know where you are. I’ll always have you.
I think about the damn nurse when you scream from me touching you.
Why the fuck did she leave you? Everyone’s under strict orders to never leave you alone. I step out for one phone call and come back to you sobbing. What the ever living fuck? God damn panic attack that you thought that motherfucker would come back and fucking rape you again while you’re strapped down. Too distraught to realize you’re not strapped down. We can move you and massage your neck and leg cramps and give you more pain relief. I swear to god we can ease all your suffering. I will ease all of your suffering rosy girl.
